WHEN THE LAST GOOD-BY had been said and the last sound of wheels and hooves died away, Scarlett went into Ellen’s office and removed a gleaming object from where she had hidden it the night before between the yellowed papers in the pigeon-holes of the secretary. Hearing Pork sniffling in the dining room as he went about laying the table for dinner she called to him. He came to her, his black face as forlorn as a lost and masterless hound.
“Pork,” she said sternly, “you cry just once more and I’ll — I’ll cry, too. You’ve got to stop.”
“Yas’m. Ah try but eve’y time Ah try Ah thinks of Mist’ Gerald an’ —”
“Well, don’t think. I can stand everybody else’s tears but not yours. There.” she broke off gently, “don’t you see? I can’t stand yours because I know how you loved him. Blow your nose, Pork. I’ve got a present for you.”
A little interest flickered in Pork’s eyes as he blew his nose loudly but it was more politeness than interest.
“You remember that night you got shot robbing somebody’s hen house?”
“Lawd Gawd, Miss Scarlett! Ah ain’ never —”
“Well, you did, so don’t lie to me about it at this late date. You remember I said I was going to give you a watch for being so faithful?”
“Yas’m, Ah ‘members. Ah figgered you’d done fergot.”
“No, I didn’t forget and here it is.”
She held out for him a massive gold watch, heavily embossed, from which dangled a chain with many fobs and seals.
“Fo’ Gawd, Miss Scarlett!” cried Pork. “Dat’s Mist’ Gerald’s watch! Ah done seen him look at dat watch a milyun times!”
“Yes, it’s Pa’s watch, Pork, and I’m giving it to you. Take it.”
“Oh, no’m!” Pork retreated in horror. “Dat’s a w’ite gempmum’s watch an’ Mist’ Gerald’s ter boot. Huccome you talk ‘bout givin’ it ter me, Miss Scarlett? Dat watch belong by rights ter lil Wade Hampton.”
“It belongs to you. What did Wade Hampton ever do for Pa? Did he look after him when he was sick and feeble? Did he bathe him and dress him and shave him? Did he stick by him when the Yankees came? Did he steal for him? Don’t be a fool, Pork. If ever anyone deserved a watch, you do, and I know Pa would approve. Here.”
She picked up the black hand and laid the watch in the palm. Pork gazed at it reverently and slowly delight spread over his face.
“Fer me, truly, Miss Scarlett?”
“Yes, indeed.”
“Well’m — thankee, Ma’m.”
“Would you like for me to take it to Atlanta and have it engraved?”
“Whut’s dis engrabed mean?” Pork’s voice was suspicious.
“It means to put writing on the back of it, like — like ‘To Pork from the O’Haras — Well done good and faithful servant.’ ”
“No’m — thankee. Ma’m. Never mind de engrabin’.” Pork retreated a step, clutching the watch firmly.
A little smile twitched her lips.
“What’s the matter, Pork? Don’t you trust me to bring it back?”
“Yas’m, Ah trus’es you — only, well’m, you mout change yo’ mind.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“Well’m, you mout sell it. Ah spec it’s wuth a heap.”
“Do you think I’d sell Pa’s watch?”
“Yas’m — ef you needed de money.”
“You ought to be beat for that, Pork. I’ve a mind to take the watch back.”
“No’m, you ain’!” The first faint smile of the day showed on Pork’s grief-worn face. “Ah knows you — An’ Miss Scarlett —”
“Yes, Pork?”
“Ef you wuz jes’ half as nice ter w’ite folks as you is ter niggers, Ah spec de worl’ would treat you better.”
“It treats me well enough,” she said. “Now, go find Mr. Ashley and tell him I want to see him here, right away.”
Ashley sat on Ellen’s little writing chair, his long body dwarfing the frail bit of furniture while Scarlett offered him a half-interest in the mill. Not once did his eyes meet hers and he spoke no word of interruption. He sat looking down at his hands, turning them over slowly, inspecting first palms and then backs, as though he had never seen them before. Despite hard work, they were still slender and sensitive looking and remarkably well tended for a farmer’s hands.
His bowed head and silence disturbed her a little and she redoubled her efforts to make the mill sound attractive. She brought to bear, too, all the charm of smile and glance she possessed but they were wasted, for he did not raise his eyes. If he would only look at her! She made no mention of the information Will had given her of Ashley’s determination to go North and spoke with the outward assumption that no obstacle stood in the way of his agreement with her plan. Still he did not speak and finally, her words trailed into silence. There was a determined squareness about his slender shoulders that alarmed her. Surely he wouldn’t refuse! What earthly reason could he have for refusing?
“Ashley,” she began again and paused. She had not intended using her pregnancy as an argument, had shrunk from the thought of Ashley even seeing her so bloated and ugly, but as her other persuasions seemed to have made no impression, she decided to use it and her helplessness as a last card.
“You must come to Atlanta. I do need your help so badly now, because I can’t look after the mills. It may be months before I can because — you see — well, because …”
“Please!” he said roughly. “Good God, Scarlett!”
He rose and went abruptly to the window and stood with his back to her, watching the solemn single file of ducks parade across the barnyard.
“Is that — is that why you won’t look at me?” she questioned forlornly. “I know I look —”
He swung around in a flash and his gray eyes met hers with an intensity that made her hands go to her throat.
“Damn your looks!” he said with a swift violence. “You know you always look beautiful to me.”
Happiness flooded her until her eyes were liquid with tears.
“How sweet of you to say that! For I was so ashamed to let you see me —”
“You ashamed? Why should you be ashamed? I’m the one to feel shame and I do. If it hadn’t been for my stupidity you wouldn’t be in this fix. You’d never have married Frank. I should never have let you leave Tara last winter. Oh, fool that I was! I should have known you — known you were desperate, so desperate that you’d — I should have — I should have —” His face went haggard.
Scarlett’s heart beat wildly. He was regretting that he had not run away with her!
“The least I could have done was go out and commit highway robbery or murder to get the tax money for you when you had taken us in as beggars. Oh, I messed it up all the way around!”
Her heart contracted with disappointment and some of the happiness went from her, for these were not the words she hoped to hear.
“I would have gone anyway,” she said tiredly. “I couldn’t have let you do anything like that. And anyway, it’s done now.”
“Yes, it’s done now,” he said with slow bitterness. “You wouldn’t have let me do anything dishonorable but you would sell yourself to a man you didn’t love — and bear his child, so that my family and I wouldn’t starve. It was kind of you to shelter my helplessness.”
The edge in his voice spoke of a raw, unhealed wound that ached within him and his words brought shame to her eyes. He was swift to see it and his face changed to gentleness.
“You didn’t think I was blaming you? Dear God, Scarlett! No. You are the bravest woman I’ve ever known. It’s myself I’m blaming.”
He turned and looked out of the window again and the shoulders presented to her gaze did not look quite so square. Scarlett waited a long moment in silence, hoping that Ashley would return to the mood in which he spoke of her beauty, hoping he would say more words that she could treasure. It had been so long since she had seen him and she had lived on memories until they were worn thin. She knew he still loved her. That fact was evident, in every line of him, in every bitter, self-condemnatory word, in his resentment at her bearing Frank’s child. She so longed to hear him say it in words, longed to speak words herself that would provoke a confession, but she dared not. She remembered her promise given last winter in the orchard, that she would never again throw herself at his head. Sadly she knew that promise must be kept if Ashley were to remain near her. One cry from her of love and longing, one look that pleaded for his arms, and the matter would be settled forever. Ashley would surely go to New York. And he must not go away.
“Oh, Ashley, don’t blame yourself! How could it be your fault? You will come to Atlanta and help me, won’t you?”
“No.”
“But, Ashley,” her voice was beginning to break with anguish and disappointment, “But I’d counted on you. I do need you so. Frank can’t help me. He’s so busy with the store and if you don’t come I don’t know where I can get a man! Everybody in Atlanta who is smart is busy with his own affairs and the others are so incompetent and —”
“It’s no use, Scarlett.”
“You mean you’d rather go to New York and live among Yankees than come to Atlanta?”
“Who told you that?” He turned and faced her, faint annoyance wrinkling his forehead.
“Will.”
“Yes, I’ve decided to go North. An old friend who made the Grand Tour with me before the war has offered me a position in his father’s bank. It’s better so, Scarlett. I’d be no good to you. I know nothing of the lumber business.”
“But you know less about banking and it’s much harder! And I know I’d make far more allowances for your inexperience than Yankees would!”
He winced and she knew she had said the wrong thing. He turned and looked out of the window again.
“I don’t want allowances made for me. I want to stand on my own feet for what I’m worth. What have I done with my life, up till now? It’s time I made something of myself — or went down through my own fault. I’ve been your pensioner too long already.”
“But I’m offering you a half-interest in the mill, Ashley! You would be standing on your own feet because — you see, it would be your own business.”
“It would amount to the same thing. I’d not be buying the half-interest I’d be taking it as a gift And I’ve taken too many gifts from you already, Scarlett — food and shelter and even clothes for myself and Melanie and the baby. And I’ve given you nothing in return.”
“Oh, but you have! Will couldn’t have —”
“I can split kindling very nicely now.”
“Oh, Ashley!” she cried despairingly, tears in her eyes at the jeering note in his voice. “What has happened to you since I’ve been gone? You sound so hard and bitter! You didn’t used to be this way.”
“What’s happened? A very remarkable thing, Scarlett. I’ve been thinking. I don’t believe I really thought from the time of the surrender until you went away from here. I was in a state of suspended animation and it was enough that I had something to eat and a bed to lie on. But when you went to Atlanta, shouldering a man’s burden, I saw myself as much less than a man — much less, indeed, than a woman. Such thoughts aren’t pleasant to live with and I do not intend to live with them any longer. Other men came out of the war with less than I had, and look at them now. So I’m going to New York.”
“But — I don’t understand! If it’s work you want, why won’t Atlanta do as well as New York? And my mill —”
“No, Scarlett This is my last chance. I’ll go North. If I go to Atlanta and work for you, I’m lost forever.”
The word “lost — lost — lost” dinged frighteningly in her heart like a death bell sounding. Her eyes went quickly to his but they were wide and crystal gray and they were looking through her and beyond her at some fate she could not see, could not understand.
“Lost? Do you mean — have you done something the Atlanta Yankees can get you for? I mean, about helping Tony get away or — or — Oh, Ashley, you aren’t in the Ku Klux, are you?”
His remote eyes came back to her swiftly and he smiled a brief smile that never reached his eyes.
“I had forgotten you were so literal. No, it’s not the Yankees I’m afraid of. I mean if I go to Atlanta and take help from you again, I bury forever any hope of ever standing alone.”
“Oh,” she sighed in quick relief, “if it’s only that!
“Yes,” and he smiled again, the smile more wintry than before. “Only that. Only my masculine pride, my self-respect and, if you choose to so call it, my immortal soul.”
“But,” she swung around on another tack, “you could gradually buy the mill from me and it would be your own and then —”
“Scarlett,” he interrupted fiercely, “I tell you, no! There are other reasons.”
“What reasons?”
“You know my reasons better than anyone in the world.”
“Oh — that? But — that’ll be all right,” she assured swiftly. “I promised, you know, out in the orchard, last winter and I’ll keep my promise and —”
“Then you are surer of yourself than I am. I could not count on myself to keep such a promise. I should not have said that but I had to make you understand. Scarlett, I will not talk of this any more. It’s finished. When Will and Suellen marry, I am going to New York.”
His eyes, wide and stormy, met hers for an instant and then he went swiftly across the room. His hand was on the door knob. Scarlett stared at him in agony. The interview was ended and she had lost. Suddenly weak from the strain and sorrow of the last day and the present disappointment, her nerves broke abruptly and she screamed: “Oh, Ashley!” And, flinging herself down on the sagging sofa, she burst into wild crying.
She heard his uncertain footsteps leaving the door and his helpless voice saying- her name over and over above her head. There was a swift pattering of feet racing up the hall from the kitchen and Melanie burst into the room, her eyes wide with alarm.
“Scarlett … the baby isn’t … ?”
Scarlett burrowed her head in the dusty upholstery and screamed again.
“Ashley — he’s so mean! So doggoned mean — so hateful!”